I’ve hit the wall. It’s the black poker hole that opens up and slams you into it and just when you think you might sift through the cracks, you hit the wall. I can’t stand anyone in the poker room right now…don’t take it personally…I can’t stand myself. That’s the crux of the problem. I don’t want to be there, don’t want to think about it and don’t want to see anyone.

Well I am there, too many nights a week and after the tournaments and high limit games, I’m ready to dive into the black poker hole, head first just so hitting the wall will knock me out.

Sick, ain’t it? Yup. Can’t be helped though, we all go through it from time to time but lots of us just won’t admit it. Consider this my confession.

I can’t stand to look at Cuckoo. He was in the room tonight, not playing but hanging out. I wondered how he’d look with a deck of cards shoved down his throat.

Israeli Mike or Mike D. He’s been loitering in the Sports Book for the last six months or so but hasn’t played poker that I know of. He cuts through the room now and then and give me the LOOK if we happen to cross paths. Tonight he was playing A.J.’s chips in a $75-$150 Stud game with A.J. sweating him. I can’t stand to look at Mike either. I don’t want him to breathe in my direction as I prefer fresh air.

Sam G. has been doing a lot more walking and talking than he has playing but since he’s the greatest player on Earth, he must just be giving the other players a break…yeah, right!

I sat down to deal a five handed $80-$160 Omaha 8 or Better with a Kill and Sam sat down to post between the Button and the Blind.

I announced, “Time Pot.”

He jumped up mumbling that he ‘wasn’t paying no time,’ and made a phone call. A few minutes later Nate came looking for him. Sam stayed on the phone. The game I was dealing broke up. Grant was still sitting there with chips and Sam jumped into a seat trying to conjure up a Holdem game.

Grant said, “Ok, what limit?”

Sam said, “$80-$160.”

I looked at Grant and said, “There’s a main game and a must move game. If you start a game it has to be a different limit.”

Sam tried to waltz his way around all of it and told Grant they could start anything.

Nate scurried up and told Grant to pick up his chips, he was locking up the table.

Sam said, “Well, what if we want to start a game here?”

Nate replied with a long line of explanation that went something like this, “Didn’t you tell the dealer down there,” and he motioned to another table, “to deal you in, you were going to get chips?”

Nate paused but didn’t even give Sam a chance, “And the dealer did deal you in and you never showed up…and I have several player’s word on your statement.”

Sam hemmed and hawed that he didn’t do that and him and Grant wanted to start a game.

Nate just laughed and said, “Not for you Sam, maybe someone else but you’ve got no shot here,” as he locked the box and I left chuckling.

Well…that’s how sick I am right now. If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry. Hello black hole!